


Control

by popnographic



Series: Bottom!Sousuke [4]
Category: Free!
Genre: Bottom Yamazaki Sousuke, M/M, Orgasm Delay, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 14:28:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5167265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popnographic/pseuds/popnographic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sousuke hates weddings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ishka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishka/gifts).



> Weekly porn trade with the bae (bee?) [iska](http://iskabee.tumblr.com). ❤

Weddings aren’t Sousuke’s thing; they’ve never been, and never will be. He’s the kind of person who would get married at the city hall if he were to ever _get_ married in the first place. So it’s probably a given that he’s practically screaming inside as they’re listening to a guy announcing the couple husband and wife. Why he let himself get talked into this is beyond him, but he hopes that the free alcohol they’ll be provided with following this will be worth it.

He and Kisumi are quick to get out of there and head towards the actual party. Sousuke plans on getting drunk to the point where he’ll easily be able to blame his state of intoxication on whatever he ends up doing that night. Or _whom_ he ends up doing, for that matter.

“What a fucking drag,” Sousuke complains as he comes back to Kisumi with two glasses of champagne. (Both of which he’d love to keep to himself, but he’s got to act like he’s a civil person, so that’s a no go.) Kisumi looks around the room, suddenly looking like a dog having picked up a scent.

“Who? Where?”

Sousuke snorts into his glass. “Idiot.”

Someone from Kisumi’s old high school comes up to them and begins to talk, and while Sousuke doesn’t really want to be part of it, Kisumi forces him to stay, and eventually join the guy and his friends at their table. He pouts inwardly, and vows to make sure Kisumi gets how upset he is at the fact that they haven’t left this hellhole already.

Said guy, whom Sousuke can’t even bother to remember the name of, keeps talking. Kisumi keeps laughing at his jokes, keeps trying to get Sousuke to join in but keeps failing. Sousuke has something else on his mind, and he’s going to let Kisumi know just what that is. He lets his fingers wander over Kisumi’s thigh, watches in amusement as Kisumi twitches ever so slightly at the sudden touch, and how hard he struggles to keep a face. It’s a good thing they’re sitting at a table, so Sousuke can actually just do whatever the fuck he wants below it.

His hand slides further up, and then he lets his fingers slowly run up and down Kisumi’s crotch. He’s not hard, but Sousuke’s confident that he’ll get there in no time. Kisumi may act like he isn’t easily affected by things like these, that he can keep this up for as long as necessary, but Sousuke knows it’s all just an act he’s fairly good at.

“So where were you from, Yamazaki? Sano, was it?” the stranger asks, and Kisumi looks at Sousuke with a mix of frustration and what almost looks like _spite_ ; almost as if he’s asking if Sousuke’s going to be able to keep whatever it is he’s doing, when he’s talking to someone about something that _isn’t_ him trying to turn Kisumi on.

“Sano, yeah,” he confirms, and the guy hums.

“Ah, I see. Knew a guy who went there, he used to be on the volleyball team. You play any sports?”

Sousuke shrugs, but keeps his hand in place on Kisumi’s thigh, slowly roaming up and down, his fingers in a circular motion. “Used to swim, not anymore, though.”

“Ah, that’s too bad,” the guy says, and finally seems to have given up any attempts at conversations with Sousuke. Finally.

But Kisumi, of course, keeps the conversation going, like he just doesn’t want it to end, like he wants to stay at this place forever if he could. Sousuke knows he can’t leave without him, since Kisumi would immediately notice even if he tried really hard to be stealthy, and just wouldn’t let him go. “ _Some social interaction every now and then doesn’t hurt, Sou_.” Maybe not physically, but mentally, it does.

Sousuke hooks a finger at the top of Kisumi’s trousers, unbuttons but doesn’t pull the zip all the way down. His fingers trace parts of the fabric of Kisumi’s boxers while he has his chin resting in the palm of his free hand, elbow on the table, and as always, looking as bored as ever. He’s not going to lie about how he feels about still being stuck here; of _course_ he’s going to look like he feels on the inside. Bored nearly to death.

When Kisumi begins to lose his train of thought, Sousuke knows it probably won’t take too long before he’ll have to excuse himself and take Sousuke with him away from there. Which, of course, is what Sousuke wants out of all of this, anyway, and he’s ready to take on whatever he has coming as punishment. He has a pretty good idea of what it might be — it’s Kisumi, after all.

“Oi, Shigino, you okay?”

Kisumi flinches. “Huh? Yes, of course. Why?”

The guy — Takashi? Takafumi? — frowns, looking concerned. Sousuke bites back a laugh, looking at Kisumi. He knows exactly what the guy’s going to think. A fever. That he’s getting sick.

“You look like you’re sick or something. Or maybe you just had too much to drink?”

Okay, so he was close. Neither of them have had _that_ much to drink that night despite the alcohol being free (maybe there _is_ something good about weddings, after all)

Kisumi’s expression goes blank for less than a second, but then he smiles apologetically. Sousuke’s kind enough to button his trousers once again to make sure he doesn’t walk out of there either having people staring blatantly at him or commenting on it.

“I guess you’re right, I do feel a little off. I should probably tell the bride and groom before I take off, huh.”

Taka-whatever waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll take care of it. You hitting the road, too, Yamazaki?”

Sousuke almost snorts. “Yeah.” Forcefully, he adds: “Nice meeting you.”

“Oh, likewise! Feel better soon, Shigino.”

Sousuke pretends to lead Kisumi out of there; hand on his back as he tries to walk hurriedly before they get stopped by anyone else.  Gladly, they don’t, and the two are out of there within just about two minutes.

“I can’t believe you,” Kisumi mutters as they walk away from the building. Sousuke snickers.

“Don’t tell me you actually _enjoyed_ being there. Just a bunch of straight people either getting married or complaining about how they’re miserable with their lives, divorced or not yet married. No wonder I turned out the way I did considering the _people_ I’ve had to be around.

“No offence, Sousuke, but I think you’re like this for a very different reason.”

“Straight people probably still had a hand in it.”

Kisumi actually laughs. “Probably, yeah.”

Kisumi’s apartment isn’t far, and they manage to reach the apartment building within about five minutes. Sousuke’s not even halfway drunk; he’s disappointed, and he’s also horny. Might not be a good combination to most people, but to him, it will be. Especially since Kisumi’s most _definitely_ in a similar mood, no matter what he’s trying to show others.

They barely make it inside before Kisumi shoves Sousuke up against the wall in the hallway, fisting at the front of his sweater and holding him in place. Not like Sousuke would want to run away, of course.

“What’s wrong, Shigino? Not like yourself tonight,” Sousuke points out, clearly amused at the sudden development in Kisumi’s behaviour and mood in general. Kisumi huffs in frustration, yanking him down to shut him up with a kiss. Sousuke, of course, doesn’t protest; goes along with whatever Kisumi wants to do, because he knows he’s in for one hell of a fucking ride no matter what.

“You know,” Kisumi whispers into his ear, “I’m not going to go easy on you.”

Sousuke grins. “Good. Don’t.”

Kisumi cups Sousuke’s crotch with one hand, begins slowly massaging it, and Sousuke’s breath hitches in his throat. No wonder; he’s been wanting this for probably well over two hours by now, and he’s just dying to find out whatever Kisumi wants to do to him.

“You’re gonna regret this, you know,” Kisumi says in that sweet voice of his, and it makes Sousuke snort.

“I don’t think so. I’m actually looking forward to it.”

 

* * *

 

Not even when he’s shoved down onto the bed roughly three minutes later is he thinking about backing out. Hell no, he’s in it until the end. So he smiles against Kisumi’s lips as Kisumi works on undressing him. He barely even has to lift a finger, it’s pretty much like being tendered to on one’s birthday. And his birthday isn’t for several months.

“How many fingers?” Kisumi breathes between his legs, and Sousuke’s cock twitches as Kisumi’s hot breath ghosts across his skin. “Two? Three?”

“You have bony pianist fingers,” Sousuke scoffs. “Surprise me, if you can.”

Kisumi lubes his fingers, and Sousuke lies back down. Surprisingly, Kisumi starts with two fingers, and while it _does_ hurt a little, Sousuke doesn’t let it show. It doesn’t take him long to get used to it, and for him to unashamedly enjoy the sensation of being stretched out, even if it _is_ by a set of ‘bony pianist fingers’. Kisumi can still work those like they _weren’t_ that skinny, almost making it feel like he’s using three fingers when in reality he’s just using two.

The third finger goes in soon enough, and Sousuke grips at the sheets for purchase, bracing himself, knowing very well Kisumi’s a man of his word. A crease forms between his eyebrows as he frowns, bites down on his lower lip, and exhales heavily through his nose.

“Already getting close, Sousuke?”

“Fuck you,” he growls. “I can take you. Just you fucking try me.”

Kisumi shrugs, and his fingers disappear out of Sousuke’s ass. He already misses the feeling. “Suit yourself.”

Sousuke watches in slight amusement and excitement as Kisumi lubes up a condom he’s skilfully wrapped onto his cock, but what comes next is something he _definitely_ hadn’t expected. Kisumi yanks him up and forces him to sit on his knees, and then he lies down. The look of sheer determination on Kisumi’s face is laughable, but Sousuke resists the urge.

“Ride me,” Kisumi says simply, and Sousuke raises his eyebrows.

“Really? And I thought you wanted to be in control.”

“Oh, honey, I can still be in control even if you’re sitting on top of me. Trust me.”

Sousuke doesn’t know _how_ , but he’s certainly interested to see where this goes. Kisumi may have just dug his own grave, or it might be Sousuke who’s happily walked into a trap. Whichever it is, he’ll just have to see when they’re done with each other. Whenever that’ll be.

But he does as he’s told; sits on Kisumi’s thighs and scooting up until he’s right above Kisumi’s cock. Takes it in hand and makes sure to keep eye contact with Kisumi while he puts it in, all the way at once.

“Go all in or go home, huh,” Kisumi hums, and Sousuke grins at him.

“Is there any other way?”

Sousuke keeps his probably very stupid smile glued to his face as he sinks down on Kisumi’s cock, and watches Kisumi try _so hard_ to not break character, but oh, how he fails. Sousuke bites down on his lip again, but this time to stop himself from laughing. God knows he’d never, _ever_ be able to walk again if he did.

When he’s all the way down, Kisumi thrusts up into Sousuke with such force that it makes Sousuke yelp out loud in surprise, but he stays up, doesn’t budge. Regains his nonchalant exterior, and looks straight at Kisumi.

“You can when you want to,” he says through a breath, and Kisumi looks at him incredulously.

“I told you so.”

“It’s not enough, though. Keep going,” Sousuke says, and Kisumi thrusts again, this time with even _more_ force, and Sousuke moans again, closing his eyes. Kisumi sets a pace; a ruthless, unrelenting one that Sousuke absolutely loves. It was definitely a good idea to get him riled up at that wedding, because it ended up with Sousuke in this position, and with Kisumi struggling to try and seem unaffected and with that perpetual smile on his face. Not that he succeeds, of course, and that’s the best part. That Sousuke’s able to break him to the point where he casts his façade aside in favour of getting himself off.

Kisumi thrusts, Sousuke begins to finally match his thrusts as he unashamedly ruts down on Kisumi’s dick, but it’s not enough. It isn’t enough to evoke the right reactions from Sousuke, and the whole thing about Kisumi fucking him into the mattress — or the equivalent of Sousuke riding him, in this case — is starting to lose its meaning.

“Come on,” he gasps. “Is that all you’ve got? Your cock is like two of your goddamn bony ass pianist fingers. I could take you _and_ someone else at the same time, and that’s when I’d start to feel something.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Kisumi replies. He takes a steady grip on Sousuke’s hips and pulls him down at the same time as he thrusts up, and Sousuke moans loudly again. “Maybe we should invite someone else next time.”

“We wouldn’t need to if— _fuck_ —if you stepped up your game.”

Kisumi growls and yanks Sousuke down for a kiss, eliciting a moan from him in the process. Most of it is drowned in between their lips as they kiss, which Kisumi’s glad for, anyway. His hand grasps Sousuke’s cock, which has been dripping with pre-cum for a while now, and he pumps him slowly, painfully so. He listens to the whine that doesn’t escape Sousuke’s throat, and smiles.

“You’ve been patient for a while, haven’t you?”

“Shut up and just fuck me already. The fact that I’m just leaking and not _coming_ should tell you something. So get to it.”

He runs his thumb over the slit and thrusts up once, hard. Sousuke squints his eyes shut, barely makes a sound, and then exhales slowly. Kisumi lets his hand slide further down so that he’s gripping the base instead, letting his index finger and thumb act as a cock ring as he continues to thrust up into Sousuke, who holds onto his shoulders, his nails digging crescents into Kisumi’s skin.

“Come on, then,” Sousuke spurs him on. “Fuck me.”

Kisumi feels his eye twitch in growing annoyance at the fact that Sousuke either doesn’t feel it the way Kisumi wants him to, or that he’s just too good at acting. Whatever it is, Kisumi’s hellbent on making Sousuke regret being such a huge fucking dick.

And that’s when he _isn’t_ talking about the one between Sousuke’s legs.

He picks up his pace, going from ruthless to _merciless_ , because he isn’t going to show any kind of mercy this time. Sousuke’s dug his own grave, shot himself in the foot, and Kisumi isn’t going to get him out of that mess since he has nothing to do with it.

Sousuke hunches his shoulders, leans forward and dips his forehead into Kisumi’s shoulder. His breathing’s gone erratic, and Kisumi knows he’s close. Very much so, judging by the pre-cum dribbling down all over his fingers, making a mess all over them already.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Sousuke exclaims, throwing his head back when Kisumi gives a particularly rough thrust. Honestly, Kisumi doesn’t care if his neighbours come over to complain — it’ll definitely be worth what he’s getting out of this. Besides, he’s more than good at talking his way out of these situations, anyway, so he isn’t worried in the least bit.

When Sousuke’s moans turn into whines instead, Kisumi knows he’s close. Not just to release, but to begging for it. Sousuke, on the other hand, doesn’t _want_ to beg for it since he was the one to initiate this entire thing to begin with; he was the cocky one who said Kisumi wasn’t enough, but now he’s beginning to _really_ regret his choice of words.

“Am I enough yet, Sousuke?” Kisumi asks, and he tries to _not_ sound as out of breath as he is. Sousuke nods fervently, practically whimpering as he keeps bouncing up and down, rutting back against Kisumi.

“Yes,” he almost hisses. “Yes, _fuck_ yes. I wanna come.”

“Ah-ah- _ah_ ,” Kisumi gently scolds, reminding Sousuke of his position with a squeeze at the base of Sousuke’s cock, which makes him yelp again. “I’m in control, remember?”

Sousuke grunts, and glares at Kisumi. “I could get off your dick and not let _you_ come. I’m in as much control as you are, you know.”

“Oh, really.”

But Kisumi _knows_ he’s got the upper hand, since he’s holding Sousuke in place, but also essentially has the power to decide whether or not Sousuke gets to come. And as tempting as it would be to leave him high and dry — well, maybe not _dry_ since he’s already pretty much dribbled all over himself — Kisumi knows he probably won’t be able to go so far.

He lets himself come first. A few hard thrusts up into Sousuke along with short moans followed by a long, dragged-out one, and he’s gotten what he wanted to begin with. His hand is still wrapped around Sousuke’s cock, and when he looks down, he almost lets out a sound in pity at the change in colour of it.

“Let me come,” Sousuke begs. “Please, I’m gonna fucking die here.”

“Ah, there it is,” Kisumi replies. “See, that wasn’t so difficult; all you had to do was beg.”

Sousuke’s just about to retort, but then Kisumi loosens his grip to begin pumping instead, and Sousuke throws his head back again with a throaty moan, giving into the pleasure he’s been denied for so long.

 

* * *

 

Sousuke lies down on his back, eyes closed, still breathing heavily despite it having been a while since he finally got his release. Kisumi lies next to him, but he’s way calmer than Sousuke is (that fucker).

“Sounds like you learnt a lesson, huh,” Kisumi teases, and Sousuke punches him lightly in the side.

“You sound like my fucking mother. Don’t do that.”

Kisumi laughs. “Who are you to command me, Yamazaki?”

“Cut it out already, Shigino.”


End file.
